Boys Defined
by EverythingAtOnce
Summary: Boys. They're immature and rude, right? Or is it, they're kind, sweethearts that have the most charming smile in the world? No, they're arrogant. Well, maybe not that, they're boring...? Or fun? Who knows...but there's always someone who knows at least something. Or at least has a fairly good idea...


**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters. Period.**

**Please enjoy!**

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"Alright, Ms. _Perfect_—if _he's_ not what you consider 'Mr. Perfect' then, please, go _right _ahead." Her chocolate brown eyes stared fearlessly into the pair of daring ice blue eyes across from her. "Please, shine some light and tell me—well, us—the definition of what a perfect guy," she crossed her arms like a parent would when talking to their child, "is," she simply ended, all ears open.

The brunette, sitting smack right in the center of the rising fray, peered up from behind her book, and watched her sisters intently with emerald green irises. Sighing, she softly set down her book on the vibrant, swaying grass and repositioned her sitting posture so she sat on the lower half of her legs.

A cool, relaxing breeze played lightly with her auburn hair and she smiled confidently, getting comfortable in her spot, ready to lean back into the grown tree behind her, but stopping herself due to her discomfort from the bugs she saw earlier crawling the surface of the bark like they were having a parade. She cleared her throat and rolled her shoulders lightly. "Alright, Eleanor, because you _obviously _don't know what qualities you should look in a guy—"

"Oh, so now I'm a brainless ostrich who doesn't know a single thing about guys?" Eleanor shot in exaggeration, right eyebrow lifting slightly. The emerald eyed girl opened her mouth to speak, but Eleanor gave her the hand and cutoff, "Not now, Jeanette." Jeanette nodded her head, biting her bottom lip. "Please, continue, Brittany," she halfheartedly flashed her oldest sister a sneering grin.

"Eleanor," Brittany began sternly, "you don't need to cut Jean off, that's rude! Don't you know any manners? 'Cause if so, you're getting just a lil' dusty there." Eleanor gawked and huffed out a puff of air while Brittany turned to her bespectacled sister, smiling sweetly. "What was it you were going to say?"

Jeanette readjusted her glasses, stunned, and stuttered, "W-w-well, I, u-um…" She cleared her throat and spoke, "Well, I was just going to say that an ostrich isn't all _that _dumb and that it actually—"

"Okay you're done," Brittany waved her hand, already bored to death.

Jeanette blinked. "Oh…a-alright…"

"Right—and you say that _I _was being inconsiderate," Eleanor exasperated, resting her elbow on her crossed legs and leaning her head on top of her balled fist. And even though her posture was a bit of an overstretch for her clean, crisp white pencil skirt she dressed up in, she couldn't care anymore about her unladylike posture; she wasn't Brittany, and she wasn't in the best mood to give a care.

"Hey—at _least _I even gave her a chance to speak," Brittany countered, her anger barely bubbling. "Unlike _some _people, I'm not even half as inconsiderate," she simply stated, examining her nails, critiquing them like they were a work of art, which in her eyes, they were.

Eleanor rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her evergreen peplum top. "Whatever."

Raising her finely structured eyebrows, Brittany smirked. "Anyway," she straightened her posture. "Boys. The topic: boys," she grinned with much interest. "Tell me, girls, how much do you actually think you know about them?"

Jeanette shrugged and tried, "They are our counterparts that complete us and…umm…they're really nice and smart?"

"Okay, Brittany, you can't be serious—you're not some," the blonde scrunched her nose, trying to think of the right word, "some…boy-ologist."

"Ew—Eleanor—ew, no. I don't study these creepy creatures—and when I say that, I'm referring to half the boys in our school and," her ice blue eyes gazed up at the bright blue sky with scattered wispy clouds spread apart from each other, "oh, and of course, Alvin Seville."

Now it was Jeanette's turn to tell her vain sister off. "Brittany, you can't just say that—you probably haven't even given those poor boys the time of day…" She cocked her head, her loose bun from her childhood days keeping her thick, brown hair in place, but evidently failing to keep the loose strands from dancing in front of her face while the soft wind beckoned her hair to waltz with it. "You know you need to actually get to know them before you actually start pulling them out of their roots," she mumbled, touching the great roots reaching out from the tree standing behind Brittany, gracing the three sisters with what it could do to shade them, for its bright red leaves were starting to fall and it's cooling shadow was slowly webbing, creating holes through its lines of branches.

"Jean, I said _Alvin Seville_—and he is for sure not even worth my pity," Brittany shamelessly stated. If there was any boy she could and would blatantly punch square on in the face, it'd be him; but she wasn't planning on hitting him due to the fact that she _absolutely_ could _not_ abuse her hand like that. Plus, even if she did take a blow at him, he probably wouldn't even take it seriously and just get back at her with one of his twisted plans of revenge. She couldn't help but get a small chill lightly brush up her spine.

Eleanor sighed. They were already getting off topic… "Guys, can we just leave Alvin—just kidding—can we just leave the Seville brothers out of this overall?"

Brittany gasped delightfully and approved, "I like where you're going, Ellie! Yeah! For sure! Let's just drop the Seville brothers and not even consider them boys!" A huge smug smile stretched across her face. "Why didn't I ever think of that?! For once you're actually a genius, my dear, precious baby sister!"

"Wait, what?!" Eleanor half shrieked. Now she did it.

"Britt…" Jeanette sighed, giving her a look of disconcert.

"Okay, fine—maybe excluding Simon and Theodore—but not Alvin, alright? Deal? Is that good?" Jeanette pursed her lips, still not too satisfied, while Eleanor shook her head with the roll of her eyes, but huffed out a breath of air in acceptance. Brittany, seeing that there was no opposition vocalized, smiled. "Good! I'm so _glad _you guys are just…_peachy _with the deal!"

"I don't know, Brittany—I mean, Alvin is your best friend, isn't he? Don't you think he deserves at least a little bit more respect…?" Jeanette stared into the depths of Brittany's ice blue irises.

Brittany rolled her eyes. Jeanette really needed to learn and accept Alvin and hers' relationship; Jeanette may have been the one with the smarts, but she definitely wasn't the one with the passion; and not to mention she, Jeanette, obviously wasn't thinking hard enough to contemplate what her and Alvin were all about. "Jean, until you learn to understand the whole entire situation between Alvin and I, will then be the moment that I step in and explain things to you," she snapped, "but until then, my lips are permanently sealed," she did a zipping motion across her lips.

"But…" Jeanette started only to be stopped by Eleanor placing her hand gently on her shoulder. The timid brunette glanced over at her blonde-haired sister. After the two shared a silent conversation, she bit her bottom lip and dropped her gaze down to the ground.

"Anyway," Brittany casually continued on from where she left off. "I didn't hear what you think of boys, Ellie…?"

Eleanor opened her mouth but paused, "Either way, whatever I say, you're going to disagree or have some sort of opposition."

The oldest of the Miller sisters sighed in disbelief. "You're kidding me, right? Eleanor, _share_—Jeanette shared—now it's your turn! C'mon—don't tell me you're scared that we'll judge you? 'Cause you know we won't—we're you're sis—"

"Okay! Alright!" Eleanor burst. "I'll talk…gosh…"

Brittany gazed around at their surroundings and caught sight of the sun, barely starting to set, the bright rays creating an ombré of yellow fading into the crisp sky blue that spread above their heads. "Well I hope you plan on speaking more than that because if you don't, your brain's gonna meet a very unhappy me, holding a baseball bat, and until I get a homerun, will be when your gets to say goodbye to me and go to the emergency room—oh and how soon I get a homerun depends all on how soon your voice starts to knock some words out of your mouth," she smiled a commercial grin.

Eleanor gaped. "Okay, well, I don't know, boys are…just boys. I don't know what more I can say? I already said what I thought of that one guy earlier—but obviously he's not what you consider to be the 'perfect' guy…"

Brittany breathed out through her lips smoothly and shook her head, snickering, "You have _SO _much to learn, darlings—you don't even know how much you are missin' out on!" she slapped her knee for emphasis. Getting down so she rested on her stomach and her arms propped her up, she rested her chin on the roof her hands made entwined together.

Jeanette tugged at her loose, buttoned up, plaid violet shirt and dusted off the bits and pieces of grass that had gotten on her lightly faded jean shorts that frayed a rim of threads at the seam around her knees. "So, what is it, exactly, that we," she indicated with a loose index finger at herself and Eleanor, "are missing out on?"

Sucking in a deep breath, Brittany rested her eyelids, and exhaled out, "Well, for starters, there's no definition really of what a boy is, or should be."

"You're joking, right?" Eleanor stared at her oldest sibling, gritting her teeth. So, this whole time Brittany was asking for them to create an explanation of what "boys" meant, and here she goes off telling them there really isn't one?

"Brittany," Jeanette timidly began, "I'm sure there's an explanation for what boys mean—I mean, if you go look it up in the dictionary…"

Brittany snapped her eyelids up revealing her ice blue irises and exclaimed, "Exactly! That's my point! There is _no_ specific single definition!"

"But—"

"No 'buts' Jean! Forget the dictionary! Rip the darn piece of crap up and burn it!" she stated earnestly, rolling onto her back, but quickly rolling back onto her stomach, pointing a strict finger at her bespectacled sister. "Then afterwards toss the ashes in the ocean!" she quickly added before, once again, rolling back onto her back, propping her feet firmly on the soft grass and reaching her left hand up into the air, letting the soft breeze collide against her skin. If only Jeanette _would_ heed her words literally and actually get rid of all the dictionaries they had in their house; if only Jeanette would actually get rid of all the non-fiction books she owned and renew her mind—think the way _she_ thought—see the way _she_ saw things… But what was she talking about? There was only _one_ room for a girl with her kind of personality, and that was _her_. She preferred and liked it that way.

"So, let me get this straight," Eleanor began, putting much of what Brittany had said to thought. "You're saying that the facts from a definition of what a boy is, such as, something like, they're male, is false?"

Brittany sighed, "Well, no, I'm not saying that it's false," she dropped her arm and lightly shrugged her shoulders, "I don't know—no just kidding—I do know. Stuff like they're male is merely a feature of what defines their _structure,_" she slowly specified, trying to comprehend what her own definition even was of what "boys" were. She did had a definition—the only thing that was really holding her back was: she just never had to put it into words before, so there wasn't exactly an actual voiced definition.

"Okay…" Eleanor waited for her to continue.

Biting her bottom lip, Brittany finally spoke, "There's more than one definition for what a boy is… Like—ugh! This would be so much easier if you could just, like—if you could just _read_ my mind for a good minute or so!" she infuriated. "That way, I wouldn't even have to _waste _my breath and try explaining something to you girls that is so plain and simple to me! It comes naturally with me!"

Eleanor rolled her eyes and sarcastically said, "Well _sorry _we just aren't as _perfect _as you are…"

"I know," Brittany slightly cocked her head, "it's such a shame," she clicked her tongue.

Eleanor scoffed audibly, lifting her eyebrows. Brittany smirked and rolled her eyes, "I'm just playing you, Ellie." Jeanette allowed a soft smile to grace her lips while she ran her fingers through the grass like it was her own hair. Only Brittany would have the nerve to say such a thing, how typical.

"Right," Eleanor snickered.

A few seconds of silence passed between the sisters, but it wasn't pure silence that reached their ears. The sound of kids shouting, and chattering voices echoed off in the distance. Right now, the girls were relaxing at the peak of a low hill in their local park; and beside them, a few yards from where they sat on their hill, was where the main attraction was; there was a Fall carnival their community had every year in October and that was the event going on below them.

The three sisters already had their share of fun, and they would've already gone home if Ms. Miller wasn't with them. But the problem was, Ms. Miller _was _with them, and she was their ride, and they (mainly Brittany) didn't want to walk home. So, they were simply waiting until Ms. Miller felt ready to go home—which they knew for a fact that she wasn't. Despite the dear old woman's age, she still had all the energy in the world and was practically an expert on how to make every passing minute be a party—at least be a party in her _own_ perspective.

Brittany clapped her hands together once and flipped over on her stomach so she could face her sisters in a somewhat more decent way, and exclaimed excitedly, "Okay, I got it…sort of…"

"You 'got it'?" Jeanette questioned, confused.

"Like, I know how to explain it, now," she grinned brightly.

"Go on," Eleanor encouraged, her patience slowly escaping her grasp.

"Okay, so there are thousands and thousands of definitions that define a boy—and most of the definitions come mainly from girls, but they can also, I guess, come from guys too, now that I think about it…"

"So—" Jeanette hesitantly began, but couldn't finish her sentence.

"No interruptions, Jeanette. Let me finish… Then at the end you girls can ask away."

Jeanette and Eleanor nodded both of their heads in agreement.

"Okay, so," Brittany looked over at where the carnival was, ice blue eyes scanning the colorful crowd of people clustered in groups and lines. She needed to find someone alone… "Okay, that girl right there!" she indicated urgently, pointing out a blonde girl that looked to be about their same age.

"Wait, where?" Jeanette squinted her eyes, trying to follow her sister's lead.

"Who?" Eleanor leaned over to Brittany, trying to see from her point of view.

"That girl right there! Bright ugly orange shirt!—"

"Brittany!" Jeanette exclaimed. "Please be nice!"

"—The super short-shorts that looks like she got it from her dogs chew-toy collection of moldy, _nastiness_!" Brittany grimaced, completely dismissing her timid sister's plead.

"I see her!" Eleanor exclaimed, but soon mirrored Brittany's same expression. "Oh…whoa…you weren't kidding when you said those things…" She muttered, pursing her lips.

"Ellea—" Jeanette began, but the rest of her sister's name couldn't make it out past her mouth as soon as her eyes laid on the indicated girl. "Oh…" She cowered back slightly. "I see what you mean…"

Once a couple of slow seconds passed on by, the three sisters glanced at each other. "Maybe you should find a different girl…" Eleanor suggested. Jeanette nodded her head in agreement, struggling to peel her eyes off of the girl.

"Yeah…maybe I will," Brittany considered, and scanned the carnival once again. After another couple of slow seconds passed on by, she shook her head. "Nope, sorry girls. We're just going to have to go with—err, that…one…uh, girl… I don't even know how she's even considered a girl," she muttered in disgust.

Jeanette squinted her eyes and slowly said, "I think she goes to our school…"

"Oh, that's nice, 'cause, I really honestly don't care, so—anyway!" Brittany clasped her hands together. "Miss—err, Orange, over there—" she looked over at Jeanette "—that name's _nice_ enough for you, right?" The timid brunette nodded her head. "Good—'cause I wouldn't have changed it even if you didn't approve," she stated bluntly to which both her younger sisters sighed tolerantly. "Anyhow, Miss Orange over there, her definition of what a boy is might be something like, tall, uh, accepting, kind, rugged, has green eyes to match her _precious _shirt and make them look like a pumpkin couple…" She trailed off and looked to her sisters. "Get what I mean? Maybe?"

Eleanor pursed her lips and spoke, "So, I _think _I get what you're saying…" She scanned the carnival finding a ginger-haired girl. "So, that girl over there, let's say her type of guy is, tall, scrawny, gentle, serious, yet also goofy—would that be considered a definition of what a boy is?"

Brittany smiled proudly. She was _so_ darn good at explaining things. "Yes! Exactly! You get my idea!"

"Wait!" Jeanette intervened. "I'm lost… I…I…I don't get what you're saying quite exactly—so, you're saying something like, what every girl has in mind for what she wishes her dream boy to be is what defines a boy…? I don't see how that really works…" She bit her bottom lip, shrugging her shoulders. "Because what a girl imagines is merely a fantasy of the real world, I don't think that exactly can be a definition; if there's no solid truth, then there's not really a pure definition."

"Well, yeah," Brittany nodded her head, "but what defines a boy doesn't have anything to do with your," she scrunched her nose in disgust, "science-geek crap." She sat up and locked eyes with her emerald eyed sister, "Jean, sometimes your just gonna have to forget all of that science-based knowledge stuff—lock it away in a cage—just to be able to understand something," she ended with a huff. "And right now, all I'm _simply _asking you to do is do just _that! _Is it really that _hard_?"

Jeanette readjusted her glasses with an infirm hand. "W-well why didn't you say so in the first place? Now that you put it that way…I-I think, I can see where you're going…"

Brittany's jaw nearly dropped down to the ground along with her ice blue eyes popping out. "Are you _serious?_" she spat, placing her right hand on her hip. "You—"

"_Brittany!_" Eleanor snapped instinctively, her voice beating her own mind to the words she would've spoken either way, due to the fact she always had to step in for Jeanette in harsh times. "Re-_lax_…," she exhaled, keeping her face composed and sound. "You know, it's not her fault—not everyone can have the same trace of thought as you," she dropped her voice to a mutter, "and honestly I don't know why anyone would want to—"

"Excuse me?"

"What?" the blonde sister cocked her head innocently. "Did you need something?"

"You just said…"

"Nothing—I said nothing," Eleanor blinked, keeping a well displayed poker face full of confusion.

Brittany cocked an eyebrow, nodding her head debating whether she actually wanted to let her sister off the hook for her words, "Uh-huh, right…" She gritted her teeth in doubt.

"Guys…" Jeanette edged, shifting uncomfortably. "Girls—it's—it's fine. Don't worry about it, Eleanor—and, Brittany, I'm sorry—I-I know, I'm not all that open-minded…"

Sighing, Brittany slowly dropped her hand from her hip and reached gently over to grab hold of Jeanette's hand. "No, don't worry about it… I…I might have been a little…ruff, with you…"

Eleanor huffed, "A 'little'?"

Brittany rolled her eyes. "Fine—a little, _too_, ruff, with you." She lamely glanced to her youngest sister, partly, irked. Eleanor heaved a giant sigh. It was better than what she had said before. "Anyway," Brittany continued on casually, bringing her hand back into her own personal bubble, "like I was saying earlier," she straightened her short-sleeved fuschia blouse, admiring the combination with her ankle designer brand, ripped capris, "what every girl has planned out for her dream boy is what defines a boy, but, that's not the only thing that defies a boy. What defies a boy is how he—and this is open to all boys—presents himself as he believes himself to be. What defies a boy is how he, or what others think of him. What defies what a boy is, is when he's who he really is."

Both Eleanor and Jeanette sucked in a deep breath, trying to process their eldest sister's words. "O-kay," Eleanor began with uneasiness, nodding her head slowly as she started to understand. "I have a quick question: this is the same for girls, too, right?"

Brittany nodded her head, "Yes. The definitions that defy a boy are pretty much the same that defy a girl, except, some things are opposite with gender." The auburn-haired girl looked to her bespectacled sister. "How 'bout you, Jeanette? Do you get it? Maybe? Partly? Just a little bit, at least?"

"Umm…could…could you possibly give me a few examples…about, um, what you said…a few seconds ago…?"

"Ah—yeah," Brittany picked up a bright red leaf lying next to her, trying her best to swiftly trigger a fairly decent example to come to her mind, "alright," she slowly began. "So, a boy, or girl, when they feel that being who they are—being their own selves—isn't good enough, and they go off pretending to be someone they're not, that defies boys, or girls, to be insecure…to be unloving…to be a liar…and probably many more reasons, but, I don't have all day to give you girls a list—but all of those reasons, whether they're good or bad, add to the definition of what a boy, or girl, is."

Jeanette opened her mouth hesitantly. "Oh…I…I think I get what you're actually saying…" She stated, a bit shocked. Wait, so did Brittany actually figure this all out by herself? "Brittany, how did you figure this all out? Because what you're saying is actually really profound…"

Brittany forced a laugh out of her throat, "'Profound'? Jean, umm, no, not profound—and honey, this is knowledge that comes _naturally_ with me, it's one of my rare gifts, and again, it's not profound, it's reality. The only reason why none of those brainiacs you idolize—well, you don't really worship those ancient brainy geeks like Simon does—but the only reason why famous _smart _people," she sneered, "haven't figured out this ongoing definition of mine, is because they haven't realized it—they've only observed plain features that are obvious to the eye and written them down with nothing more but blank minds full of limited facts."

Eleanor blinked, shocked. "Wow, Brittany—I had no idea you could actually speak and think like that! Do you hear yourself? I think you've gone deaf internally or something—because if you were actually listening to yourself, this would all be just gibberish and a completely new language that would pass right over your brain! I swear, I thought you were actually immune to saying this kind of stuff." She ended bluntly.

"_Wow_, thanks, _Ellie_, I think you're pretty dang smart yourself, too!" Brittany exclaimed, her voice dripping thickly with sarcasm. She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. She'll be "smart" when she wants to, and only when protocol calls—no, _screams _for her guidance.

Eleanor rolled her eyes. Of course she would respond back with that. Sighing, the blonde looked off to where the carnival was still going. Catching sight of the same boy she pointed out to her sisters earlier, she snapped her head to Brittany's direction and asked, "So, what _was_ wrong with the guy I pointed out?"

"Huh?" Brittany furrowed her eyebrows together in confusion.

The youngest of the three sisters deeply sighed and indicated towards the boy she spotted earlier. "Him. Does he trigger and memories?"

Brittany shrugged in dismissal. "Eh…yeah, sort of…what about him?"

Scoffing, Eleanor interrogated, "What's wrong with him? You said he wasn't perfect—"

"Because he's not!" Brittany stated is if it were the most obvious thing ever.

"Alright, well, mind telling me why?"

Brittany simply spoke, "His nose is retarded."

Hearing this, both Jeanette and Eleanor gaped their mouths slightly open. "'His nose is retarded'…?" Jeanette timidly repeated, unsure whether she had heard correctly.

"Yup."

"You're kidding," Eleanor blinked, "are you serious? You are hating on him all because of his _nose?_" Again, Brittany nodded. "How in the world can you even see his nose?!"

"I have extremely excellent eyesight, I'll have you know," Brittany stated with much pride. "And plus he's way, way, WAY, too tall—seriously, he's a giant that walks like a stinkin' gorilla!—and just by that, that's enough to tell me that he's go not respect or confidence in himself, and he's just some wannabe goofball—but," she cut herself, seeing that her youngest sister about ready to blow like a volcano, "but, when you were saying earlier how he was 'Mr. Perfect,' that was only based off of _your _opinion. Me saying 'no'—"

"Was you saying your own…oh…" The brown-eyed girl's cheeks lightly flushed like they were water colored. "I see…what you…um, mean…"

After some thinking and listening, Jeanette finally decided to join back into the conversation, speaking, "Well, Eleanor, Brittany did, um, well, say some things that are actually quite understandable for as to why you got a bit—err, upset…"

Thinking things through, Eleanor widened her eyes in realization. "You're right... Brittany, this whole entire, conversation-argument thing, all started because you told something around the lines of: I needed some lessons from you on how to choose the right guy."

"Well, based on the fact that you said that Gorilla-man over there was 'Mr. Perfect,' of course I said that! But it's okay," Brittany calmed. "I forgive you. It's not like you're perfect or anything," she ended simply.

"Oh," Eleanor rolled her eyes for what felt like the thousandth time that day. "And let me guess, you are?"

A soft breeze blew from the Fall carnival, carrying along the sweet aroma of cotton candy and apple pie. Smiling, Brittany answered charismatically, "Yes."

Jeanette pursed her lips, and after some time of thinking, she questioned curiously, "So, if you're so perfect, Brittany, then would you mind sharing what you think defines the perfect boy? Or at least what you're, um, well, 'Mr. Perfect' would have to have to actually be, uh, 'Mr. Perfect'…?"

Brittany's smile spread across her face even bigger. "Of course I _can_—girls, you better listen carefully and maybe even write this down if you want to know what to look for, when looking for the most _perfect _boy in the world…" She sighed, dazed. "Oh, and just so you know, what I say are the qualities that my future husband will pretty much have, for, I am going to marry 'Mr. Perfect' when the time comes." She gazed up to the bright, smooth blue that painted the skies. "Okay, so, my perfect man, or boy—same things—he will have gorgeous, extravagating sky blue eyes," she said in a dreamlike state.

Eleanor and Jeanette glanced to each other, shaking their heads. They knew this could take a while…

"He'll have a masculine body, and be taller than me—but not too tall," she went on ignorantly. "He'll have the most _attractive _smile ever, and he'll be just as confident as me. He'll be strong, and caring. He'll love me for who I am, and care about how he looks for—he cannot—_absolutely _CANNOT—go around _ever_ looking like a piece of garbage. He'll have style, and he'll always be there for me. He can't be wimpy, he has to be brave, and he must be loaded with wealth! Oh do you girls know how much I would get? OH! It'll be just great! OH! And I can't forge he must—" Brittany suddenly shrieked in terror.

Jeanette jumped from her spot, and snapped her head up from staring at the cover of her book in her hands while Eleanor jolted, her closing eyelids blinking open in alarm. Immediately, the two sisters glanced to Brittany, who now was sopping wet.

Behind the shrieking girl, laughter could be heard, and Brittany whipped her head around in a split second. Letting out another shriek, but this time in pure fury, she lashed out, "ALVIN! What the heck! You—look at what you just—why you—my hair!—my clothes!—you—you _twerp!_" She wanted to cry—her poor clothes, hair, everything!—but there was no way the tears would fall. She was too mad. She could feel her hair stick to her head like an octopus—and it definitely didn't feel refreshing. The only part of her that actually _was _dry were the bottom tips of her capris… _He was SO going down_…

Laughing, pretending to wipe a tear away, the boy, also known as Alvin Seville, pointed, "You," he struggled to breath due to his cackling. "You…you should've—you should've seen your face ex-expression! It was priceless!" he bent over, laughing like a hyena.

Both Eleanor and Jeanette sat on the sidelines, watching from their front row seats, not sure of what to do, too stunned to even move. In Alvin's hand was a cerulean blue water bucket, and off a few feet away stood the younger bespectacled brother, Simon, hunched over, panting like dog would in the hot summer heat. "I'm…I'm sorry…Brittany…" He panted, trying to even out his breathing. "I…tried to stop…him…"

"Guys!" a boy clad in a deep green knitted sweater called from at the bottom of the hill, trudging his way up, trying his best to run. "Alvin! Simon! Wait! Wait…" He finally made it to the top next to Simon, gasping for breath. "You guys…y-you guys left…you guys left me!" he half whined.

"Sorry…Theodore," Simon breathed, slowly straightening his posture. "I had to try and stop _Alvin _from doing anything stupid…"

"Hey! Don't you know what fun is when you see it? Obviously _not!_ I invited you to join me, but you refused!" Alvin retorted.

"Well, unlike _you_," Simon adjusted his glasses, "I've matured and know better than to do something so childlike!" her crossed his arms sternly.

"Hey! She needed this!—she deserves this, Si! Plus I'm doing her a favor! She looked like she needed a drink—"

"_UGH!_" Brittany suddenly exploded. "Seville, I am so going to _kill _you when I get my hands on you!" she growled, furious.

Alvin coolly rolled his eyes, a smug smile plastered on his face. "'Cause I'm sure you're capable of just doing that—I bet you can't even put a scratch on this perfect figure," he indicated arrogantly towards himself with his thumbs.

Scrambling up to her feet, Brittany barked, "That's it, Seville! You're dead!"

Alvin ran off, cackling like a maniac. "You're gonna have to catch me first!"

"Get back here, Seville!" she roared, chasing after him, but stopping herself once she took a few steps, realizing how useless it'd be; he was already pretty far away, what was the use in chasing after him when she knew she'd never catch him?

Alvin now past the bottom of the hill, turned around, jogging backwards, stuck out his tongue. "Oh—and for the record, I have an actual name! It's not Seville—it's _Alvin!_" he complained.

Brittany rolled her eyes, placing a firm hand on her hip. "Whatever, Seville!"

Alvin shrugged, irritated. "Alright, if that's how you want to play, then so be it, _Miller!_" And with that said, he ran off disappearing into the crowds of the carnival.

Brittany's eyebrow twitched. Now _she _was getting irritated. She had a name, too! She huffed out a puff of air and crossed her arms, but feeling her now wet shirt stick to her arms, she immediately recoiled her arms and threw them out in disgust. She needed a hair dryer to blow her clothes dry…and to throw at Alvin…

"I'm sorry it turned out this way," Simon suddenly spoke, coming up to Brittany's side.

"Yeah, I am, too…" She muttered bitterly, shaking her arms vigorously.

Sighing, Simon shook his head. "Well, I have to get back to the carnival—we're in charge of the water balloon activities," he explained, heading off on his way down the hill. "C'mon, Theodore," he turned back, beckoning his younger brother to follow. Catching sight of the other two Miller sisters who had been silent the whole entire time, watching with observant eyes, the bespectacled boy waved with a smile.

Theodore, catching his brother waving, turned with curious eyes, and he, too, seeing Eleanor and Jeanette, flashed a giant, friendly smile. "Hi, Jeanette! Hi, Eleanor!" he chirped brightly before breaking out into a jog to catch up to his brother. He paused. "Bye Eleanor! Bye Jeanette!" He continued on his way.

After some thinking, Brittany hollered, "Hey, Simon, Theodore! Tell your _stupid _brother Alvin to be prepared the next time he sees me!"

"Will do," Simon sighed, knowing very well that he would have to bring earplugs for the next time around he and his brothers encountered the Millers, "have a good rest of the day."

"Thanks! You too, Simon and Theodore!" Jeanette suddenly responded back, grinning her sweet soft smile.

"Bye, guys!" Eleanor waved.

Brittany clenched her fists and unclenched them as she turned on her heel, heading back on over to her sisters. "He's so _annoying! _Why couldn't he act like Theodore! Or Simon, even!" she grouched, folding her arms crossly, not bothering to sit back down due to the fact that her spot where she sat was now dripping with water.

"He's your friend," Eleanor shrugged simply.

"He's yours, too!" Brittany fired back, aggravated.

"Well, yeah—but he's closer to you than to us," she shot right back.

"Uh-uh! Is NOT!" No way. She refused to believe _that_. It was a sick joke.

Eleanor sighed and gave up, not even bothering to argue back. What was the use? She knew Brittany was as stubborn as a child refusing to eat their vegetables.

Brittany rolled her shoulders back, followed by rolling her neck. Sucking in a deep breath of air, she exhaled out loudly through her nose and stared up at the sky, then back down to her sisters. She noticed Jeanette staring at her funnily. "What?" she snorted. "You don't have to _stare_, I know I look like the Wicked Witch of the West," she grumbled, getting a little self-conscious. She didn't look _that _horrific now did she? No matter what state she was in, she always looked fabulous; even on her worst days. She needed a mirror—she didn't look perfect—and that was going to bug her.

Jeanette shook her head. "No, it's not that…"

"Well, it's obviously _something_," she muttered bitterly.

The bespectacled girl pursed her lips in debate. It wasn't that she didn't want to tell her sister what was on her mind, it was that she wasn't quite sure whether it was actually that _great _of anidea to tell her.

"Well…?" Brittany placed her hands on her hips expectantly. "Spit it out already, or else I'll just slap it out of you," she threatened, losing her patience.

Jeanette twiddled her thumbs together, fidgeting indecisively. Sighing deeply, she said, "Okay, fine… J-Just don't…overreact…"

Brittany raised an eyebrow.

"Okay," the brunette bit her bottom lip, "since the encounter with the Seville brothers, I just realized something…and I'm not sure whether you'll be, too, happy with what I've detected..."

"Just say it, Jean!"

"A-a-alright, alright," she gave in and inhaled deeply. "You know how you were listing off everything your dream boy would be like? Well, um, I—well, how do I put this—um, well, everything you said, is everything that defines…" She glanced from Brittany to Eleanor, then back to Brittany, and then dropped her gaze to her knees. "It's everything that defines," she picked her gaze up and looked to Brittany. "Are you sure you really want to know? I…I don't think you'll be too happy to hear what I have to say," she tried to delay.

"Spit it out!" Brittany stomped her foot, grinding her teeth.

"What is it?" Eleanor curiously questioned, leaning in a little; even though this wasn't about her, or much of her concern, she still wanted to know.

Jeanette shrank back slightly, wishing she had just kept her mouth shut up tight. She had either two choices. One, make some unreasonable excuse and not say anything, or, two, go ahead and say her philosophy. She was leaning on the ladder.

Brittany let out an exasperated sigh, throwing her hands up. "Jeanette—gah! I swear to you that if you don't—"

"Everything that you descripted is everything that defines Alvin!" Jeanette quickly let out, panting slightly from all the pressure.

The auburn-haired girl froze, ice blue eyes glistening.

"Brittany…?" Jeanette softly called out, her timid voice barely breaking past her vocal cords. Biting her thumb nail nervously, she glanced to her youngest sister frantically. "Oh, gosh, I-I-I'm so sorry!—I knew I shouldn't have said anything! Wh-what did I do? She-she's in shock and it's all because of me! What do I do?! Eleanor…?!"

Eleanor opened her mouth in attempt to calm her panicking sister, but Brittany's voice sounded off before she could even utter a word. "What…" Brittany began but stopped. She could feel her heart pulse her blood to the top of her head. Her breathing was getting out of balance. Taking in deep breaths, she spoke through gritted teeth, "_Whose _name was it…that you just said?" She was going to blow.

A slow smile slowly crept onto Eleanor's face as she progressed what Jeanette had said earlier through her mind.

Jeanette opened her mouth, "W-w-well, I…I-I-I…" She could tell. She could perfectly see past her glasses. She knew she, Brittany, was going to blow. She could totally tell. She knew: _she was going to blow. _"I said…"

"Alvin!" Brittany screeched. "You said, _ALVIN! _Alvin, flippin', Seville!"

"Brittany, Jeanette's right!" Eleanor stated, smiling a bit stunned. How did she not see this before? Brittany had mentioned blue eyes, being confident as her own self, and many more for what her dream guy would be, and everything she had said was everything Alvin was (or at least said he was, or would be).

Brittany stopped and registered everything that had just happened in her brain. Her eyes soon widened in complete horror. They were right. "No…no…no, no, no!" she rebuked, shaking her head in denial. "Oh, gosh, what do I do?! There must be a mistake!"

"Nope. No mistakes," Eleanor smirked, failing to disguise her face expression, not feeling bad for her now miserable sister. Brittany had it coming for her.

Brittany couldn't move, stuck in a trance of shock. Great. Now she was going to have to do the one thing she _never EVER _had to do in her life: she was going to have to do some _major _reconsidering. "Kill me."

* * *

**Haha, okay...umm, if this was confusing to you, I'm sorry, and it's totally fine 'cause while I was writing this, I was confusing myself, too...which probably isn't a good thing, but whatever. I know this is a random short-story, but I had to write it; it totally came to me like, five or six days ago in the shower, soooo, yeeaahh...weird, I know... Also, _please keep in mind_: I'm no expert on boys. ;D**

**Anyway, please review and tell me what you think! And it's totally fine to be honest, I mean, if you hated it, then fine - but you better give me a pretty darn _good_ reason why. And if you have any advice, or tips, or critiquing - please, do share. And I'm sorry for any errors/grammatical things you find - I'm not perfect (and I rarely review over my own work).**

**Thanks so much - to everyone; for those keeping up with me and those just passing by - for taking the time to read this one-shot! You're totally the bomb-for-shizzle-m-dizzle-r-drizzle - yeah, you're awesome. :D**

**I know I haven't been doing well in keeping up the beat, but please just be patient with me! I'll be, hopefully, updating more soon!**


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